The Word of Your Body
by thatgirlwiththebooks
Summary: Scrambling for something, stumbling over his words, Nezumi says,  "A little Snow was here and there/Disseminated in her Hair/Since she and I had met and played/Decade had gathered to Decade." Set to Spring Awakening's "The Word of Your Body."


My friend had the rather wonderful idea of pairing the lyrics to Spring Awakening's The Word of Your Body with a fic about the relationship between Sion and Nezumi. These are the results. Enjoy! (edited to correct Dogkeeper's gender...I'm still wondering if it was a translation error, for it's never been confirmed in the novels)

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><p><em>Just too unreal, all this<em>

_Watching the words fall from my lips_

_Baiting some girl with hypotheses_

_Haven't you heard the word of your body?_

Sion can only look at Nezumi talking to Dogkeeper, watch them bounce back and forth from playful banter reminiscent of the kind of flirting he studied in psychology to snarls and physical stances closer to canine than human. He doesn't focus on Dogkeeper so much as Nezumi, and that admittance makes him blush. Nezumi's hands clench, the muscles in his arms tighten as he restrains himself from tussling with the boy. Sion realizes that he can even see the outline of his bicep through the cheap, thin jacket he wears.

His legs are equally stiff, feet gripping onto the ground, his thighs flexing from the effort of staying in one place. His comrade towers over the boy, his dark hair free from the ponytail and falling into his face, obscuring his finer features. _Finer_? Sion thinks, waving the thought away, _No, from an objective standpoint, Nezumi is 'fine.' I'm sure if I did a survey…an exam, of some sort, test results would conclude that he is good-looking_.

Despite him attempting to push back the thoughts of Nezumi, they burst forth as though from a dam, filling his brain. One particular image stands out, although Sion realizes it's blurry, but he remembers Nezumi pinning him to the bed as the parasitic wasp began to destroy his body. He remembers the heat of Nezumi's body pressing against his, the way his feet tangled with his as the taller boy struggled to keep the shorter from dying. In the hazy memory, he sees Nezumi's face close in on his, his silvery eyes darkened with worry and panic, his lips pressed in a tight line…his lips tensed…and pink…for Sion.

His breath hitches, catching the attention of Nezumi and Dogkeeper, and Nezumi cuts their banter short as he dashes over to Sion, speaking words of worry about Sion's health, intermingled with insults about how he can't always be taking care of him in a world as twisted as theirs. He places a broad hand on Sion's shoulder, making him free as he imagines two things—Nezumi shaking him, like after they'd kissed the whore, screaming at him to pull it together and become stronger…and Nezumi kissing him. After that, he can't bring himself to look at Nezumi in the eyes for the rest of the day, choosing instead to just read his friend through body language.

_Don't feel a thing, you wish_

_Grasping at pearls with my fingertips_

_Holding her hand like some little tease_

_Haven't you heard the word of my wanting?_

Nezumi should be reading something. Verne. Austen. Alcott. Rowling. Tolstoy. Anything, any genre, anything to distract him from the startlingly white head of hair sitting next to him, tinkering with his rats. Sion. Ineloquent, borderline illiterate, Sion, who is so emotionally retarded by No.6 that he grew attached to tiny robots. The light tan one—Cravat, that was what Sion named it—scampers up the white haired boy's arm, tickling him to the point of soft giggles. He laughs like a girl, Nezumi thinks, feeling only a tiny pang of guilt for mocking such an innocent boy. They're the same age, after all, and Sion has to become wise to the ways of the outside world.

"Nezumi?" Sion asks, startling him out of his thoughts. He tilts his head to the side, as one of that wretched girl's mutts would, and the feathery tips of his hair sweep against his temple, pointing toward the blood-red color of his eyes. "Is something the matter?" Sion asks, blinking with a blank face. Nezumi breaks their gaze with a scornful 'tch.'

"You treat those things like they're pets. You'll screw up their programming," he says, a weak statement, and he knows it, but he also knows Sion can't tell the difference. His roommate laughs again, and the sound sends something jolting through Nezumi. As childish as the laugh is, he begrudgingly admits to himself that it's a sound he will never mind hearing.

"Don't worry, Nezumi, I'll make sure their programming stays top-notch! I'd never break your things," Sion promises, the earnest tone a direct product of living in No.6. Nezumi allows himself a small smile, and then he finds himself reaching up to brush his hand against Sion's snowy hair. The boy looks confused, and Nezumi realizes that playing with each other's hair is not exactly something boys do. Scrambling for something, stumbling over his words, Nezumi says,

"A little Snow was here and there/Disseminated in her Hair/Since she and I had met and played/Decade had gathered to Decade." He thinks that if the great Miss Dickinson were still alive, she'd go ahead and drop dead due to his horrible performance. It's the first poem that comes to his mind, and now he'll only be able to think about Sion when he reads it. Sion reaches up and threads his fingers with Nezumi's, both of them now playing with white strands of hair.

"That was pretty, Nezumi," he says, his simple and sweet response predictable to Nezumi…but the teen finds himself wanting a bigger response from Sion. Nezumi brings his hand away from Sion's hair, but he doesn't shake the thin, pale fingers away. They're both warm and alive, and he just wants to feel it for a little while.

_Oh, I'm gonna be wounded_

_Oh, I'm gonna be your wound_

_Oh, I'm gonna bruise you_

_Oh, you're gonna be my bruise_

When it happens, it happens exactly an hour after dinner, when Nezumi is rereading Much Ado About Nothing and Sion is trying to comprehend the finer plot points of A Separate Peace. They're both wobbling precariously on the tightrope of their relationship, with Sion leaning into Nezumi and Nezumi's foot brushing against Sion's ankle.

"This is a strange book," Sion muses quietly, more to himself than to Nezumi, "And sometimes…it seems like Finny and Gene are different than normal friends. I can't explain it." Nezumi feels himself go rigid. He knows exactly what Sion is interpreting, even if he's doing it subconsciously. _Don't. Say nothing. Don't. You don't know what he'd do if he got too close. He could hurt you, without meaning it, or meaning it, he knows the human body well enough_.

"Sion…" he breathes, looking down at his housemate, suddenly aware of just how close the two of them are. Sion's hand is feather light, carelessly brushing against his leg. To Nezumi's surprise, Sion doesn't answer. For the first time, the book consumes him; he doesn't notice Nezumi whispering, staring. Nezumi gazes at Sion's face, getting the full picture of how the teen looks while reading. His white eyelashes almost graze his cheeks at he looks down at the pages (_have they always been so long_? he wonders), and his mouth…he's biting down on his lip, frequently, releasing the lower whenever he flips a page and breaks his concentration. That small bit of flesh flushes a dark red, striking against his skin, complimenting the creased brow perfectly. _I…him…I can't_, Nezumi thinks, all logical or eloquent thought vanished from his mind as he looks at Sion.

He doesn't jump him, not quite. But he puts his hand on Sion's cheek, turning his face towards him. Without saying a word, he plucks the book from a startled Sion's hand, marks the page he's on, and sets it down on the ground. Nezumi, hand still on the shorter boy's cheek, stands up. He runs his fingers down to Sion's chin, tilting his face up to him. They say nothing. However, Sion stands up, his red eyes hazy with something Nezumi's never seen in them before—desire.

"Nezumi…" he whispers, and that's the last word either of them say before Nezumi wraps his arms around Sion's waist and leans down to kiss him. It's different from Sion's chaste goodnight kiss, shared only weeks ago. This one is full of need.

Nezumi feels like he's put all of his emotions into the kiss, and panics briefly when Sion doesn't kiss back at first. But then Sion's arms wrap around his neck and he presses his lips eagerly against Nezumi's, a deep moan rising in his throat. Nezumi digs his fingers into Sion's hips, and Sion tangles his hands into the boy's soft, dark hair. To Nezumi's amazement, the red-eyed boy wraps his legs around Nezumi's waist, pressing himself closer to the warm body, and Nezumi groans as the pressure builds in his groin.

"You. Me. Bed. Now," Nezumi whispers into the kiss.

_Just too unreal, all this…_

_Watching his world slip through my fist_

_Playing with her in your fantasies_

_Haven't you heard the word – how I want you?_

Somehow they fall onto Nezumi's bed, Sion on top of him and the two of them now unbearably hot in their small home. Nezumi feels his scarf be yanked from his neck and then warm, wet lips begin trailing across the tender skin there. He's not as naïve as I thought, Nezumi thinks through the lust fogging his brain, his hands working to strip Sion of his jacket and shirt. Fucking buttons, he thinks, struggling with the tiny things. Sion breaks the kiss, sitting up, his hardening crotch grinding against Nezumi's. He begins deftly undoing the buttons, a blush spreading across his face as he begins to reveal creamy white skin to Nezumi.

The sight of it is too much for him to bear; he reaches up and tears the fabric away, throwing it to the ground (along with his pants) so he can yank Sion back down on top of him, crashing their lips together in a kiss even more heated than the first.

"Fuck, Sion," Nezumi moans as he feels Sion's hands rub against his crotch, savors the little nips the albino gives to his lower lip. Every sensation shoots through him, and he wonders if he's making Sion feel the same way. Smirking into the kiss, he reaches up and tweaks a small pink nipple, making Sion gasp.

Nezumi flips Sion onto his back, taking a second to pull his own shirt and pants off, leaving him completely naked and on top of Sion.

"What do you want me to do?" he asks, his voice low, teasingly dirty enough to make Sion whimper.

"Anything, something," Sion whines as Nezumi starts rubbing his dick through his thin boxers. With a sly grin, Nezumi kisses Sion once more and moves down his torso, making sure to brush over a nipple ever-so-lightly with his tongue, before his mouth is right where it needs to be. A swift tug frees Sion's dick of the cotton caging, and his erection bobs in front of Nezumi's face.

"Hard for me, I see," Nezumi says, running a finger from base to tip. Sion shivers, crying out at the new sensation. He bites down on his lip, his hips quivering as Nezumi loosely wraps his hand around Sion's cock, languorously pumping up and down. With every pump of the hand, Nezumi sees all traces of childish No.6 leaving Sion, replaced with a lustful, sex-driven teenager moaning and thrusting upwards into Nezumi's hand.

"F-Feels good," Sion gulps, staring at the ceiling instead of Nezumi's face to keep from cumming too early. Nezumi grins, sticking his tongue out and licking a long, wet strip along Sion's cock, making the other swear loudly for the first time Nezumi can remember.

"Fuck, fuck, Nezumi, get up here!" Sion shouts, the command startling Nezumi into actually stopping and moving back up to hover over Sion.

"What is it?" Nezumi asks, gazing down at Sion's flushed face. Reaching up with shaking fingers, Sion pulls Nezumi back down into another kiss, his other hand moving down to stroke Nezumi's now painfully hard cock.

"It's not fair that you get to do everything," Sion murmurs between kisses, and Nezumi has to stop himself from laughing at Sion's still childish ideas about sex. Part of him wants to let the naïve one crawl over him, exploring all the sensitive parts of him with that delicate pink tongue, but the other, part wants to take charge and make Sion scream his name until he's hoarse. He decides that Sion can take charge next time. Next time, he thinks, shivering from the thought.

"You're hard for me too," Sion laughs, trying to crawl back on top of Nezumi. However, the dark haired teen wraps his arms around Sion's waist, hoisting him up and practically slamming him against the wall.

"Surprised it's taken you this long to notice," Nezumi whispers into Sion's ear, "Remember, you still know nothing about sex. It's my job to be your teacher." He shuts Sion up with another, gentler kiss before leaning down and taking Sion's entire length into his mouth. Ignoring Sion's cries, Nezumi begins to bob his head up and down, taking care not to choke as he sucks, his tongue trailing over the head of Sion's dick, dipping in just enough to make him go rigid and thrust his hips forward.

"N-Nezumi, nngh, more, please," Sion begs. He scrabbles at the wall with his nails for something to grip onto until Nezumi shakes his head, pointing at his long, dark hair. "Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you," Sion says, and Nezumi responds by looking up at him through his lashes and moaning on his dick like a wanton whore, sending the vibrations through Sion's body. _I want you_, he thinks, but doesn't say. With another loud groan, Sion grips onto Nezumi's hair, yanking just hard enough to hurt and send shivers of pleasure through Nezumi at the same time.

_I want him to cum screaming_, Nezumi thinks, locking eyes with the undone Sion as he focuses on the sensitive head, licking, sucking, even humming some of the songs from past plays he's been in until Sion's legs shake and his flat abdomen flexes. To his pleasure, Sion does scream out his name when he cums, filling Nezumi's mouth with hot, bitter liquid. Despite the taste, he swallows it all, his attention focused on post-orgasm Sion's face. He's spent, new to sex, and still fairly naïve as he smiles down at Nezumi, sliding down the wall next to him. Surprising Nezumi, Sion wraps his arms around his chest and hugs, kissing him like they're an old married couple or something.

"I love you, Nezumi," Sion says with a bright, happy smile on his face, confident in his speech. And then the sexual high Nezumi's on vanishes, the words like a dagger to his heart. _I love you, Nezumi_. Everything is still hazy through his lust, after all, he's still impossibly hard, but the words sting him, light a panicky fire within. It's not the first time someone's told him that they love him, not at all, quick fucks he's had in the past told him. It is, however, the first time he's felt like saying it back.

_I won't be able to kill him if I have to now…_

He's vulnerable, to Sion, of all people. If the new fear shows on his face, Sion can't read it yet, for he sweetly kisses Nezumi and then moves down to start giving his lover a blowjob. Nezumi flops back on the bed, staring at Sion between his legs, as the beautiful boy he's been lusting after for ages starts innocently sucking his dick. He's crippled now. He does feel something—though he doesn't know what yet—for Sion.

_I'm so fucked. _

_Oh, I'm gonna be wounded_

_Oh, I'm gonna be your wound_

_Oh, I'm gonna bruise you_

_Oh, you're gonna be my bruise_


End file.
